


A Ballad of Songbirds and Wolves

by Spyloaf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ANYWAYS the Stark kids are oblivious, Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, But it hits some of the same story beats, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, Don't worry I have a plan, F/F, F/M, Hunger Games-Typical Death/Violence, I'll add more as I go, I'll adjust them as the fic goes on, Implied/Referenced Character Death, It'll be less than GoT and less explicit so more THG like in that sense, Like Cat/Ned and Renly/Loras those are pre-established others I'm probs gonna work up to, M/M, Major Character Injury, Mentions of Forced Prostitution, Most will probs be minor, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Robb is dense but we been knew, Sansa and Robb focused, Some of the pairings are going to take some time and some are already established, The starks are a UNIT, Theon's a flirt lmao, These are the characters that I have planned to appear, This isnt a direct au, and couples, i love them, im bad at tagging sorry, so are the Tyrells
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:22:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23905363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spyloaf/pseuds/Spyloaf
Summary: Sansa Stark of District 7 has just won this year's annual Hunger Games. She didn't ask for anything that's been given to her, all she had wanted to do was make it home alive. She never intended to give the people of the districts a voice of rebellion.As the Quarter Quell is announced, Sansa, her family, and the other victors will be pulled into another bloody conflict. But, this year doesn't need to end with one man standing. There's fire stirring in the shadows, something much bigger the Capitol may not be able to smother. The odds may not be in the Capitol's favor anymore.Or; This is a Hunger Games AU with a similar story beats to the THG trilogy, but adjustments are made to fit the ASOIAF universe and it's characters. Also, liberties taken because I don't want this to be exactly like THG.
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters, Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark, Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jon Snow/Ygritte, Renly Baratheon/Loras Tyrell, Sansa Stark/Margaery Tyrell, Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Comments: 12
Kudos: 55





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, everyone!! This is my first GoT/ASOIAF Fic, and my first full fic in like 3 years,,, So please be patient with me lol. Okay, so this isn't a direct au because I personally do not enjoy writing them, SO WE'RE CHANGING STUFF! But, we're keeping some of the same general story beats to keep the same feel, and the fact that both properties dive into rebellions. I'm probably gonna take quite a few liberties with the some of the politics and world structure of THG's universe, but I'm doing it to fit some narrative elements of GoT/ASOIAF. Hope you all enjoy!! Kudos, comments, and bookmarks are much appreciated! 
> 
> Big thanks to my amazing beta Crystal!!! Love you!!!

The sharp crack of the cannon was almost deafening in comparison to the relative silence of the meadow that had been in front of them. Relative. They had still been trapped in an artifical landscape in some unknown arena where they were forced to murder eachother against their own will, well for most that is. Some tributes did volunteer, and well, that’s just as good as marking yourself down on some sign up sheet. The steady countdown that took place before the sounding of the cannon had been like background noise, just as the entire week prior to that moment passed in a daze. With everything moving by so quickly, no one had time to process anything, not fully at least, not before they were ultimately thrust into the arena. Nothing could prepare anyone for that, or put them in the right mindset to experience what they had experienced. Hell, every single one of them, no matter their experience level, were coming to grips with their untimely deaths that were almost promised to occur in the coming days. Not just their deaths, but the fact that they were to be broadcasted for the entire country’s viewing pleasure. The entire country saw every intimate and gory detail of the final hours of their lives. It doesn’t matter who won, nothing will ever change that fact. 

Yes, no one could prepare for that. No amount of physical training will prepare you for it, you can be as swift with a sword as you like, but nothing compares to being thrust into a situation where you must kill other children. Well, at least not mentally. Every passing second was grueling, as they took in their surroundings; trying to figure out the best way to make it out alive, to at least see the sun rise tomorrow morning. With every number sounded, the more real their grim circumstances had gotten. It wasn’t just some horribly realistic nightmare; the nightmare had been living and breathing.

The games followed the same general formula as every other one that came before, or at least that’s what Sansa had observed. Her games were no different than the ones before it. It didn’t matter the differences in landscapes, tributes, who won, or how they won, they all ended the same: with 23 children dead and one left standing.

The cannon cracked and everyone had sprung back to life, the ringing in their ears and shock of their new environment didn’t stop until the night ensuing the bloodbath. But, if she was being honest, the ringing never really went away, not even after the last cannon sounded and she was crowned the victor. The bloodbath had been just as gory as usual, many were able to avoid it and grab the supply pack layed out for them before making their way into the shelter of the surrounding areas. The games were always sure to make for an interesting watch, as fucked up as that sounds, for the lavish capitolites betting and gambling their money away as others starved on the streets of the districts. They saw it as an event, one to revel in and celebrate; they didn’t see them for what they truly were, a cruel punishment of death played out for the public’s viewing pleasure. A punishment for a crime that even the eldest members of society could barely recollect. 

The following hours would pass by in a haze of blood and panic, as some tried to escape those more “gifted” and others just tried to get as far from them as they could. But, isn’t that life? The weak avoid the strong, taking shelter behind those who can provide some protection. Eventually, the careers would pick off everyone they came across, with a few outlying tributes taking out one or two of careers alongside themselves. As more tributes dropped dead and the days passed, the few remaining careers would turn on eachother in some epic finale. Maybe one career and someone from a middle district, rarely ever does a tribute from an outer district make it that far, and the games would come to a bloody close as one opponent brutally beats the others to the finish line. Of course, you couldn’t win without getting some blood on your hands. Well, for the most part that is. Sometimes the games come down to who can survive in the arena the longest, who can outlast the other tributes without getting their skull bashed in first. You didn’t always need to be a brute to win them, Sansa could attest to this.

Sansa’s win was still fresh, as was the short time she had spent in the arena. She didn’t have the best odds of winning her games (the odds were certainly not in her favor), she didn’t receive an unusually high training score, she only scraped by with a 5. She managed to fly under the radar for the most part, really only standing out by being the niece of a late victor, one who was much beloved by the capitol. Sansa still thinks in retrospect that that might have been why she was able to receive the few sponsors that she did in the first place. Well, that was until she was able to prove her survival skills and wit in the arena, then eventually more sponsorships came trickling through. She was able to take the win by playing a game of survival, by purely outlasting her opponents. Some odd gamemaker had the bright idea of making the arena for the 74th annual games be that of a snowy forest, luckily for her that’s what she grew up in. This didn’t provide for an especially interesting or shocking game, but it was better than the time they completely flooded the arena a few years back. However, it managed to satisfy the capitolites and repress the districts further. 

Or, so she thought. Apparently, the fact that she was able to win the games without directly making any kills herself, inspired people in a way. She didn’t realize this till her victory tour, where she was paraded around to every district, forced to face the families of the tributes she either aided in the killing of or was complicit in the killing of. Not that anyone could blame her, it was that or be killed herself, and she was the first out of seventy-four to make it out without one drop of blood on her hands. Again, at least not directly.

Sansa survived by knowing how to forge and create traps that would at least slow her opponents down, she also was already used to low temperatures and thus knew how to survive in them, to some extent that is, she did almost freeze to death herself. These traps never did more than create a small injury, but with the climate, that injury soon became infected. Or, it would rip their clothing, which would then cause improper insulation, and thus cause hypothermia or frostbite for those who found it too risky to start a fire in the open or weren’t lucky enough to have a blanket. Her games were mostly uneventful, she didn’t even get to see the face of the tribute who was hunting her before they too dropped dead. She was crowned victor in the middle of the night, when the final cannon rang and the games came to an anti-climatic end. 

That’s where her time with that life should have ended. It should have stayed back in the capitol, allowing her to return back to District 7 and live out the rest of her life with her family, comfortably. However, the victory tour needed it’s victor, so she complied. She read off the cards, wore all the shimmery gowns that her stylist, Daenerys, had designed, and every night she joined her mentor Jorah for a drink. Jorah and Dany were the only ones getting her through this, in the absence of her family. Jorah with his calm, empathetic glances and slight wisdom held back from years of isolation and trauma. She was at least happy that he wouldn’t have to mentor alone anymore, it’s hard to send children off to die every year by yourself, knowing there’s nothing you can do to help. He always mentioned how she was nothing like her aunt Lyanna, the one who won her games but died in the few years following her victory. He told her that she was gentle yet powerful, she wasn’t the hurricane of emotions that her aunt had been. However, she was still a Stark, through and through. The capitol nicknamed her “The little dove”, but Jorah knew she was nothing less than a wolf. 

Daenerys was an amazing stylist, her style was provocative and demanding, but not gaudy and over the top like most games stylists were. Her appearances prior to the games displayed her as the little dove of the capitol, gentle and polite, yet still communicating a striking and commanding presence. But, now that she's won the games, the snowy whites of a dogwood tree and the delicate pinks of cherry blossoms were dead, and in their place grew the deep crimsons of the weirwood trees’ leaves and steely grey of the axes that chopped down the delicate flowered trees. Disappearing just as the person who Sansa had been prior to the games was, and her place grew a stronger and more stoic girl. 

Daenerys would always tell her, “Your skin is armored with steel, but they still view it as delicate porcelain. We both know that it was never fragile, but they must see it now for what it’s always been. You’re no dove, you’re a red wolf.” Sansa wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that, Dany was always quite the flowery speaker, but that probably came with the territory of being the daughter to the King. 

Well, at least that’s not what she felt like when she went back home for those few months before the tour. Every snowfall reminded her of the games, she couldn’t even take a walk in the staple forests of District 7 without getting spikes of paranoia. Sansa had believed that once she got home to her family, the thing that kept her going and kept her alive, that everything would be well. But, her father nor her mother, not even Robb or Jon, could protect her from the nightmares she faced when she closed her eyes. Everytime she was left alone to her thoughts, all she could think about was the sound of the cannons and the sleepless nights, waiting for another tribute to ambush her and end her right then and there. Sometimes she dreamed of the tribute she watched die, she meant to save him, but by the time she reached him the light had already been sucked out of his eyes. 

Then, she thought that maybe the tour would help? It might be able to get her mind off things, but Jorah quickly reinformed her that nothing would ever get her mind off of the things she witnessed, that’s not something you easily forget. This is why she joined him for a drink every night, she was never one to indulge in alcohol, she could acquire the taste for it, but his company was nice and it did ease things a little bit.

Sansa had hoped that the celebration party in the capitol would at least be fun, and that it would possibly have other victors attending, ones she could find solace in. She hadn’t really met any of them previously, there weren’t many from District 7, and she had only been able to exchange glances with few during the victory tour before being rushed off to her next stop. Now, she could finally relax and enjoy the festivities, no grieving families, starving populations she couldn’t help, or forced “heartfelt” speeches. She might be the center of the celebrations, but at least there’d be sweet wine and enough appetizers to feed a whole district for a year. 

Daenerys had dressed her in a steely grey gown with an armored bodice of metal, crafted to look like weirwood wood branches. The gown fit her body perfectly, it hung off her body just right and clung perfectly to her curves. Fixed on her left shoulder was a wild pelt of black fur that draped itself down her shoulder. Her fiery hair was fixed up into an elaborate half up half down style, an intricate weaving of braids wound together to create a rose like shape on the back of her head. The intricate braid work was a signature of Daenerys’ style, it was immediately recognizable. Her makeup was delicate and light, nothing severe, that was the dragon princess’ way. Sansa’s whole attire for the evening was a perfect combination of her public persona and her district. She guesses that was probably the point, it doesn’t matter that she no longer is in the games, she’ll be draped in costumes representing her district's industry of lumber and forest landscape for the rest of her life. 

Daenerys and her crew escorted her to the party being held at the King Aerys’ Palace, there was no need for her actual escort to do the job when her designer was the King’s own daughter. 

“You’ll probably be expected to make appearances with the new head gamemaker, his name is Tyrion. Which reminds me, you’ve heard of the Lannister Twins, correct?” Dany was trying to help her prepare for the onslaught of obnoxious capitolites that she was about to face, but Sansa wasn’t sure what the Lannisters had to do with this? She shook her head in response though, no answer needed to be spoken. But, really who hadn’t heard of the Lannisters? Well, specifically, who from the district leading families hadn’t. That was really the only thing that each district knew about the others, their industry and their “ruling” family. Not to mention the fact that the Lannisters had multiple prominent victors amongst their ranks. 

“Well, Tyrion is their little brother you see-” Dany was cut off by the shocked look on her face, “What? Why is that shocking? Their whole family is beloved by the Capitol.”

“Well, I was under the impression that once a district citizen, forever a district citizen. How was he able to become the new head gamemaker? And, what happened to the last one?” Sansa was shocked to say the least. The districts might be isolated from information regarding other districts, but she feels like this would have been something to make national news. Since when were district citizens, even from the most favored districts, able into rise to the ranks of Capitol society?

“Oh, I guess the news probably never reached the other districts. I always forget how isolated from everything you all are. Well, you see after Cersei won her games, what two years after Jaime did? They became the capitol’s darlings, the golden twins of District 2. But, I’m sure you already knew that much from your parents, it was quite the event from what I hear.” Dany gave her a reassuring smile, knowing that this knowledge would probably be hard to digest as someone from one of the less favored districts. “Anyways, their father is a big deal back in District 2, he’s the mayor and the lead director of The Nut- the center of military command and arsenal for the country. So a few years after her games, my father offered them a place in the Capitol. They weren’t the only ones to be invited though, the Baratheons of District 5 were as well.”  
“The Baratheons of District 5, Why them?” Sansa was even more confused now. 

“Well, Stannis won his games in between the Lannisters' wins, and his brother, the mayor, was already being planned to be married off to Cersei. I’m sure you’re aware that my father organizes many of the marriages of the leading families, correct?” Sansa nodded her solemnly, she was all too familiar with the custom, and as of recently had not been too fond of it. “Well, Stannis was already very well liked, he showed great tactile strength in the arena. So with Lannisters’ father, Tywin, he hired them as his consultants on his personal council, and it proved easier to just relocate both families here to the capitol. Tyrion had been seen as promising for his performance in the academy at District 2, so he was also brought along, leaving District 2 in the care of Tywin’s brother, Kevan, and his bloodline for now on.The Baratheons’ youngest brother was but a small child when this move occurred, he’s not much older than yourself actually, so he narrowly avoided the dangers of the games for a comfortable life here in the Capitol.”

“Lucky man.” 

“Indeed, Renly is very lucky for it. Anyways, both families were moved here and, well, the rest is history. Do you have any other questions in regards to that mess?” Truthfully, Sansa had many more, but there was no time for them. It didn’t matter, however, Dany probably couldn’t answer them anyways. 

“Uhh, no, I don’t, but is there anything else I’m going to need to know for this evening?” She hoped that Dany would reply with something more hopeful, something that she might actually like, other than the complimentary food and drinks. 

Dany just blinked at her a few times before moving on, “Well, as I’m sure you’re already aware that you’ll be meeting my father and my brothers, we’ve already told you that ten times over.” It’s true they had hammered it into her, You must look amazing for the King!! “Other than that, just remember: good manners, pleasant talk, even if the person you're talking to is less than satisfactory, and all smiles and gratitude for this “opportunity and honor.’ I won’t try and pretend that the games are nothing less than the savage bloodbath they are, but the people in that palace will never accept them for what they are.” This took Sansa by surprise, she never had never heard anyone from the Capitol speak of the games in an ill light before, even Daenerys. She had just spent her whole victory tour spouting about how much of an honor the games were and grateful she is to have won. And, she was met with the angry mobs of people who wanted nothing to do with her because why should she be the one to come home and not their loved ones? This year’s audiences seemed unusually emotional this year, or maybe that’s where District 7 differs from the others? They treated the games as what they were, an inevitable that they’d never be able to stop, not in their lifetimes at least. When the victory tour came to them, the only people who showed much emotion were the families and close friends of the fallen tributes, otherwise they just dealt with their grief privately. It’s not like the capitol cared what they felt like. 

“I lied. I do have one question.” Sansa said curtly, breaking out from her thoughts. “Will any of the other victors, other than the Lannisters and Stannis, be attending? No one has given me a direct answer yet, and I was hoping to meet some of them. Jorah always speaks highly of a few of them.” 

“Well, I’m sure you know already that Jorah is attending, and as you said the Lannisters and Stannis as well. Other than that, there most likely will not, sadly.” Sansa shrunk into herself a little more, there would only be one person she would be able to truly confide in tonight and he’d probably be propped at the bar for the entirety of it as she was forced to socialize with the same people who betted on her death and survival. 

They fell into silence after this as they made their way up the winding path to the palace gardens. They stood a few yards away from the party when Dany looked over to her and gave her a reassuring smile, squeezing her hand as she led her through the gates to the garden. As she entered, she was met with an enormous crowd of capitolites that were parting like the sea, all staring at her joyfully and clapping. There was nothing Sansa wanted to do more than run from it all, it was suffocating. Finally, she was led out of the crowd and into the private sector of the celebration, where there was actually room to move and breathe. But, that’s also when she lost sight of Dany.

Sansa could do this. She could brave the capitolites by herself, she’d be able to find Daenerys or Jorah eventually, she’ll be fine. She took a deep breath and recomposed herself before taking a step forward into the festivities, thinking of what her mother would do in this situation.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party in Capitol commences and Sansa meets some new characters as well! Which includes appearances from everyone's favorite Crowned Stag and Golden Rose pair ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! Thank you so much for the reception that I've gotten on this fic so far!! I'm glad people like it so far, hopefully I won't let them down with this next chapter! 
> 
> Sorry for the long wait, I had AP Testing and finals the last week and a half and they kind of drained all my energy for writing. But, they're all over now, so expect chapters to come out more frequently! Or, at least that's the plan lol
> 
> This chapter is roughly twice as long as the last, so hope everyone enjoys :) 
> 
> Big thanks again to my Beta, Crystal!!!

Not long after Sansa recomposed herself, she was met with a tap on the shoulder. She spun around instantly, being met with a man appearing to be not much older than herself. He was dressed in a golden structured suit with black lapels and a matching black turtleneck underneath. His dark hair was artistically fluffy, coming down around his ears, and there was an antler shaped hair pin pulling back a portion of it behind his left ear.

“So, you’re this year’s victor?” He said grinning at her, offering his arm for her to take. She nodded at him quizzically, not moving. “Oh! I got ahead of myself, I apologize, darling! I’m Renly Baratheon. My brother’s are former victors, like yourself.” His smile softened, still holding out his arm. Sansa took his offer and began walking through the crowd with him. 

“I was told you’ve lived in the Capitol almost your entire life, what’s that been like?” She tilted her head at him, before he let out a low chuckle. Renly could probably detect the small hints of bitterness in her voice.

“Well, It’s been better than the conditions that my brothers grew up in from what I hear. I’m lucky to have dodged the bullet of living in the districts and having my name put in that bowl every year. But, you know nowhere is perfect, everyone has their troubles.” He sighed before patting her arm, leading her further into the crowd of people. “I currently work as a stylist for the games now, but I must say I’m nowhere near as talented as your princess.” He winked at her playfully, bumping his shoulder into hers. 

“Well, yes Daenerys is quite talented, I’m lucky to have received her as my stylist. To be honest, I’m not sure what I would have done without her, she’s like a close friend to me now.” Sansa admitted bashfully looking at the floor. It was true, she wasn’t sure what she would have done without Dany. Her stylist kept her going, gave her hope, if anyone is to be credited with Sansa’s win, it would be her. Now if only she could find her again. Not that Renly wasn’t a pleasure, but she wasn’t quite sure why he was talking to her either. 

“I’d venture to say she’s the best stylist the Capitol’s got. Now, I must admit I did pull you aside for a reason.” He didn’t really pull her aside, if anything he pulled her further into the extravagant party. She perked up at this though, finally he was getting to his motive. “Now, I know only Capitol residents are invited to these things, but occasionally we’re able to make exceptions.” He paused for a beat before going on, “What I’m trying to say is that a victor around our age is also in attendance, one that hasn’t been absorbed into the Capitol’s false glamour like my older Brother and his bitter wife.” Okay, there was obviously some personal grudge there, that she honestly has a few questions about. However, she’s too excited about the prospect of meeting another recent victor to press any further. 

“Oh really? And who might that be?” She smiled at him sweetly, trying to cover up how much this actually meant to her. Renly on the other hand, bashfully looked down at his feet smiling before meeting her eyes again. 

“Loras Tyrell, he won about 3 years ago before you, so around 4 years ago now I believe? He’s from District 1, he’s one of their youngest victors. Well, he is the youngest to win the games, he was only 15 when it happened. Quite impressive if I must say myself.” There was something more than just mere admiration in his voice, but her acquaintance’s relationships aren’t really her business. “I invited him to come tonight, I didn't really want to brave the waters alone this year.” He laughed lightly at this, “I know he’s technically a career, and they don’t have the best rep amongst the non-career victors - or districts for that matter - but I think you’ll like him.” 

“If I’m to be honest, I’m just glad to meet another Victor other than Jorah. It’s been hard adjusting back to normalcy after the arena.” Sansa’s voice began to trail off towards the end of her sentence. She’s not exactly prone to showing her emotions like this nowadays, but something about Renly’s presence made her feel comfortable. 

“Say no more! I completely understand, I’ve been uh close friends with Loras for long enough to understand what you mean. The games aren’t exactly an easy thing for people to come back from.” He gave her a small, empathetic smile before continuing, “We met during his games, er I was on his stylist’s team back then. It’s before I was old enough to get my own, it was really nothing more than an internship.” 

She giggled at him, “Well, I guess it must have been exciting to get your career started so early. You don’t look much older than myself and you’re already a head stylist.”

“This was my first year as a head,” he explained while using his free arm to scratch the back of his head. “And, yes I am fairly young. I’ve only just turned 20.” Ah, so he was a year older than her elder brother, Robb, and her cousin, Jon. She smiled at the thought of them, she’d give anything to have her family with her right now.

“I don’t mean to interrupt anything, but I thought I’d finally stop by and meet the belle of the ball for myself.” A slim man with soft, tawny brown curls that brushed the tip of his collarbone interjected, grinning. He was wearing an elaborate suit jacket covered in roses and other flowers of varying shades of yellow, orange, and pink. Under it he wore a muted, leaf green button up that had the first few buttons purposefully left unbuttoned. And, his trousers were a sleek black material with a vine of golden embroidered roses running up the outer sides of his legs. His long hair was artistically pinned away from his face, from what Sansa could tell there looked to be golden rose pins aligning on the crown of his head. A true obnoxiously extravagant Capitol costume for someone who very obviously belonged back in the districts.

“Loras! It’s good to see you again!” Renly smiled as if he hadn’t seen his friend in years, and from what she could infer it seems like they had only parted mere moments before Renly found her. Loras laughed at this, handing him one of the glasses of champagne that he had been holding onto prior. Renly untangled himself from Sansa’s arm and grabbed the glass out of the other man’s hand. “I still can’t believe they allowed you to come tonight.” 

“Well, it helps that I’m one of the Capitol’s darlings.” Loras rolled his eyes at this, obviously holding disdain for this status, before smirking at them. “But, it also helps that I’m sleeping with one of it’s-” Renly elbowed the flower drenched man in the side, promptly cutting him off. Loras just laughed at his increasingly reddening face. Well, that answered some of her questions. He quickly turned to her and grinned, “I’m Loras Tyrell, but I’m sure you probably figured that out already,” He turned his head towards the other man and winked, “Ren does love to mention me at every chance he can.” 

“It’s nice to meet you,” she grinned back at him, one of the first genuine smiles she’s had since the games. “Not to sound cocky, but I’m assuming that you already are aware of who I am.” It felt strange making these assumptions about herself. She went from being just the Mayor of District 7’s eldest daughter - and not even in the loud, mischievous one - to the victor of the 74th Hunger Games. The thought of this made her stomach lurch, she didn’t want any of it at all. 

However, Loras just politely laughed at this remark, “No, no, you don’t sound cocky at all, trust me I get it. Also, what kind of attendee would I be if I didn’t even know who the celebration was for?” He jested as he raised his champagne glass to his lips. “I understand how you must be feeling though, I remember my own Victory Tour party, it was quite the drab. Normally, I would have loved the festivities - I always did when I was little - but after my games, well, I wanted to be left alone more than anything else in the world.” This made Sansa smile, she was able to relax some in his presence. Loras and her had an unspoken understanding, something she’s guessing all victor’s had with each other.

“Ah yes, Loras’ kingly celebration! If I remember correctly, you ended up getting pissed and needing to be escorted out of your own festivities early because you tried to pick a fight with Jaime Lannister, right? Or, am I remembering that all wrong?” At that Loras just grumbled at this, wearing the expression of a cat who had just been rudely interrupted from its slumber. Which made Renly smirk at him, it was payback for the other’s crude comment from before she supposed.

Sansa snorted at this, it felt sort of like she was with her family once again. Arya would always be trying to say something smart to anger Sansa or Robb. Occasionally, Bran would become the target of her mischief, but it was usually as pay back for something he did to her earlier. Despite Robb being the eldest, he was one of the one’s targeted the most, he was probably due to his overly trusting nature and general denseness. It gave his siblings many things to easily pick on him for. However, Jon wasn’t immune to sibling teasing either, he was more of a brother to them than a cousin anyways. He could be quite soloum and brooding at times, which is an obvious targeting point for her quite obnoxious and chatty siblings. Rickon was only 11 and was the most wild of all of them, not to mention he was the youngest and they always get picked on the most. 

“Can you blame me? I mean just look at the guy! He’s always acting as if he owns everything around him and that he’s better than the rest of us! He’s the definition of a male peacock!”

“I never said I didn’t think he deserved it.”

“Wait, did he actually do anything?” Sansa cocked her head to the side slightly.

“Gold hand just thought it would be appropriate to comment on how he believed that I should have lost my games because that kid from two was clearly more skilled than me.” She had to stifle back some laughter, she vividly remembered the year Loras had won the games. And, it was true that the male tribute from District 2 was talented, he was more of a beast than a child, but he was all brawn and no brain. Loras on the other hand, might not have been the strongest physically, but he was definitely quick in both mind and foot and knew his way around a sword quite well. Loras had some of the best odds that year, better than the tributes from her district, but where was the surprise in that? 

“Well, anyways, I don’t mean to bring up anything sore, but your games were quite interesting.” Renly pulled her out of her thoughts with this comment, she wasn’t exactly happy to talk about the arena. Loras obviously understood this and sent him a pointed look, to which he promptly responded with, “Look, I know it’s hard to talk about, and I’m positive I won’t be the only one to ask about them tonight. That’s all these people care about, so why not rip off the bandage amongst good company?” At this he motioned one of the servers over to their small group and gave her her own glass of champagne. It was probably the most expensive thing she’s ever drank in her entire life. 

“I don’t see how they were? I mean I didn’t garner much screen time till the end from what I hear, and it’s not like any of the other tributes were making it specifically interesting.” At this the two men in front of her shared a glance that she couldn’t read, there was obviously something deeper to it, but shouldn’t place it. 

“Well, it’s not everyday that someone makes it out of the arena with their hands clean, it is impressive.” The three of them turned their heads to a blonde woman decked in an elegant deep red armored gown with gold shoulder pads and a large gold lion’s head ornament placed on her chest to match. Loras turned around immediately after recognizing the woman and moved closer to Sansa, she looked vaguely familiar but she couldn’t place where she had seen the woman before. Renly put on a fake smile that was drenched in poison, the woman just smiled daggers back at him. 

“Ah, my beloved sister-in-law, Cersei, how wonderful it is to see you.” He gritted through his teeth. That explains everything now. Cersei Baratheon (nee ́ Lannister) was a former victor herself, and now lived in the capitol with her husband Robert Baratheon, whom she was forced to marry. 

“As it is to see you, Renly. I’m sure you’ve been well?” Her smile sharpened, “I was just wondering if I could have a word with that little dove of yours? I do enjoy welcoming my fellow victors to the Capitol.” Sansa didn’t need to be told that her motives weren’t as innocent as she made them out to be. Sansa hadn’t been alive for Cersei’s games to have remembered them, but she does remember her mother mentioning them a few times during the games that were held the year before her own. She mentioned something about them being a repeat in history. 

Cersei turned to her sharply, “Why don’t you take a walk with me through the gardens? I’m sure you’d like to talk to another lady about what you’re going through right now, rather than these _brutish_ men.” She glanced over at Loras at that last part, causing the man to let out a strained sound of agreement.

“Yes, of course! She can totally connect with an old lioness who’s known in the districts as a-” Renly slapped Loras’s shoulder to get him to stop before he made a mistake. “What? I’m speaking the truth. Cersei, you’re acting like you didn’t manipulate and poison people during your games. I get that we all do what we can to survive - unless you’re some psychopath who enjoys it - but even careers understand after one day that they're not what the academies make them out to be. There’s honorable ways of winning, and they’re brutish, dishonorable ways of winning. Killing in self-defense and learning to survive is different than manipulating people into doing your bidding and killing your allies before breaking off your alliances. You never had the courage to stab someone in the front, you could only be a backstabber.” Sansa wasn’t very knowledgeable on Cersei’s games, but just from that she could make some inferences about what she did. And, her opinion on that was not very high. 

At this Cersei’s face turned as red as her dress, she was absolutely fuming. Loras just took it in with pride, he seemed very pleased with her reaction. “Well, Mr. Tyrell, we both _killed_ people, I don’t believe it matters how it’s done. The outcome is the same, one stays standing by making choices for survival, while the rest are left in early graves. There’s no inbetween with the games, it’s win or die.” 

“It was nice making your acquaintance Cersei, but there’s no need to do that. I’m sure you’ll be quite busy this evening, I’ve heard much about you already. You seem like quite the busy socialite, I don’t want to hold you up too much.” Sansa politely smiled at her, trying her best to get the other woman to leave. She honestly thinks if she was to go take a “walk in the gardens” with her, it would end up with Sansa feeling like there was a target placed over her head for the rest of the night. “I apologize for Loras here, but I’m sure you must have better things to do now. So, please, go on with your night, don’t bother worrying about me.” 

And, with that Cersei turned on her heel and left the three of them in a stupor. She was an odd woman, but not a pleasant one at that. When she was finally out of ear shot, Renly began laughing in genuine amusement, not out of contrived politeness. 

“Loras, you went overboard with the insults, but her reaction was priceless! However, I’m definitely going to be hearing about it from Robert later, but I think it was worth it.” Renly mused while taking a celebratory drink of champagne, emptying the glass. “And, Sansa! Your response! You were so composed, but that makes it even better! I’m not sure what made her angrier, Loras’ straight forward attack, making the same critiques she’s heard a thousand times already, or Sansa’s diplomatic decline of her oh so gracious offer!” He was thoroughly amused by this and didn’t mind trying to hide it. Which confused Sansa in some regards, but in others she also understood. She was one of six siblings after all, she understands wanting to purposely get under them or their friend’s skin sometimes. However, this seems a little deeper than pure sibling jest.

“Sorry, he’s always like this around her,” Loras said, taking Renly’s champagne glass from him and handing it to a nearby waiter. “They don’t necessarily get along, and obviously I’m not a fan of hers either, but they have some weird pissing contest to see who can make the other’s life a living hell first.” 

“I’m guessing it has something to do with the fact that she’s your eldest brother’s wife, right?” Sansa guessed. 

“Oh, yes! She’s a horrid beast and I’m aware that my brother had no say in marrying her, and that that marriage is part of the reason I’m even in the capitol to begin with. However, I do get a kick out of riling her up, but I’m definitely not the first to take joy in it. Her younger brother is quite fond of the activity as well.” Renly’s grin was large and genuine, more genuine than any other she’d seen him flash that night. She supposed that maybe the alcohol had something to do with it, of course, she’d only seen him have one small glass, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t had more before finding her. 

“Hm, well she did seem quite, double sided.”

“Oh, that’s just the start of it,” Renly rolled his eyes at the prospect of his sister-in-law’s negative qualities, which seemed to compile into quite a large list. 

“She tries to intimidate the newer female victors, she acts as if they’re trying to take her crown as queen or something.” Loras took a small sip of what remained of the once full glass, “As if she was queen to begin with. She doesn’t have any more power than the two of us.”

“Maybe, she’s just afraid that the Capitol’s newest will out shine her? Take away the spotlight off of her?” She pondered. 

“Oh, that’s definitely it. I just don’t understand it in all honesty. I mean the capitol’s nice and whatever - and I don’t know if this is because I have basic morals or not - but I don’t see the appeal of the glitz and glamour when the people behind all of it find a bunch of kids being forced to kill each other for sport as prime entertainment. It just makes all of it not worth it, ya know? And, it’s not like she was living in squalor before, she’s the mayor’s daughter. And, the mayor’s daughter of the richest and most favored district at that.” His conclusion made sense, her adoration for the favor of the capitolites didn’t make much sense in that regard. Especially, since she was forced into that arena just like both of them, she’d seen the horrors of it. But, it doesn’t seem like she had much of a problem with any of the things she had done or saw in the arena, it was just like picking out an outfit to wear for her, easy and mundane. 

Sansa can’t imagine how that’s possible, just judging from her own experience, and she had never even directly killed another person. The only one she saw die, really saw die, was the boy from District 3 who had gotten caught up in a trap. Luckily, she hadn’t built the trap that ensnared him, but she still found that she’d ended up blaming his death on herself anyways. He could have survived, she had the medicine to, but she had gotten there just a moment too late. He was a sweet boy from the few interactions she had with him prior to the arena, but she could never find it in herself to remember his name or search for it. The knowledge of it would make the guilt even worse. 

Apparently, Loras had caught onto what she had begun to think about. He rubbed her shoulder sympathetically and gave her a small, reassuring smile. He was sharp-tongued and hot-headed, but he also knew exactly what she was battling with as well. He had some empathy after all. She hadn’t even realized that she had been staring down into her glass as it sat half empty in her hands.

“If it makes you feel any better, my sister wasn’t as lucky as you, she was forced to brave Cersei on her own.” She raised her head and furrowed her brow before realizing what he meant. Loras’ sister, Margaery (if she recalls correctly), won the games the year prior to Sansa. She vaguely remembers that year’s games, there was some buzz about them with something to do with a new dynasty being made. Oh. That’s what they meant, a “dynasty of victors” would be created since her brother won two years before her. Does that put Sansa in a dynasty then? Her aunt Lyanna did win once upon a time after all.

“Well that’s much more unfortunate than having you two as my company with only a minor interference. Not to say your company is bad, it’s not, please don’t take it that way.” Sansa laughed lightly and smiled, it felt good to finally be at one of these functions and connect with people. Most Capitolites were out of touch and just wanted to know the bloody details of her games and nothing more - she couldn’t speak much for her prior experiences with other victors, since that pull was limited. 

“Of course, these things are never fun, even in good company.” Renly sighed, he’s probably had to attend these things since he was a child, which had to have gotten old after awhile. Or, at least for him. 

“Anyways, what we were talking about before we were so rudely interrupted,” Renly waved his hands up dramatically, “Your games! You’re right, you didn’t attract much screen time till the end, not that that’s a bad thing of course! Honestly, it might make you better, morally speaking that is, which means you didn’t go out of your way to kill others. But, that’s precisely why people find them fascinating! You were a complete and utter dark horse - I hope that’s not offensive in any way?

“I don’t think it’s offensive? I didn’t really expect myself to win to be quite honest.” 

“Anyways, I’m sure you’ve heard about the stirrings your games have caused?” Of course she has, no one would stop mentioning them during her Victory Tour. Hell, even in her few months back home she couldn’t escape it. Robb would always make these jokes about it, but they weren’t truly jokes, no, they were more like veiled threats of helping spurr these revolutionary feelings. Was it bad that she wished he would go through with these threats? 

She nodded her head at him in reply. The one thing that they pounded into her skull repeatedly throughout her tour, was to stay neutral on these - ideas. She didn’t want to incriminate herself or put her family at risk in any way.

“What Renly’s trying to say,” Loras budded in, clenching his jaw tight. “Is that your win was impressive. First person to win without a single direct kill, it’s _history_ in the making.” Obviously mocking the concept of the last phrase. Why would not killing in cold blood be historical? Why should killing in cold blood be normal?

“Of course, that’s exactly what I meant,” Renly cleared his throat before continuing, “Anyways, your games may just overshadow the Quarter Quell this year, that is if they don’t think of something interesting to do with them. I mean seriously? Is putting children an arena, forcing them to kill each other, not enough for these psychos?” Renly made a wide gesture at the entire room. 

“Now, Mr. Baratheon you know there’s more to a Quarter Quell than that?” A small man with well kept blonde hair had said approaching the group of three. His attire was oddly normal - compared to the rest of the attendees - he was wearing an oddly plain burgundy coat jacket with a black button down underneath and black slacks. He, however, did have what looked like to be a golden lion collar pin instead of a necktie.

“Ah, Tyrion Lannister! It’s a pleasure to see you! I’m sure you’re already aware of your dear sister’s attempt to scare our center of celebrations here?” Renly wore the same shit eating grin that he had earlier after getting under Cersei’s skin. So, this was famed Tyrion Lannister, the new Gamemaker? Sansa must admit, he is not what she expected him to be.

“Aha, yes, I have. I must say, I heard our - what are they calling you again? ‘The Little Bird’ is it?” 

“That’s what they’ve dubbed me, yes.” She tried to hide her disdain for the nickname under a polite tone. It wasn’t working that well.

“I heard you had quite the comeback for my sister-”

“I didn’t mean to offend her or you for that matter, sir!” For the love of the old gods, she was digging herself into a hole here. Tyrion only grinned up at her.

“No, please, don’t apologize! I love annoying my sister just as much Renly does here,” He snickered. “You really have not offended me here, I can’t speak for her though. However, I wouldn’t worry about Cersei, she doesn’t have nearly as much power as she pretends to.”

“Yes! The power she thinks she has by being a housewife in the Capitol, she may be a victor but the power most of us appear to have is really but an illusion.” Loras scoffed, obviously upset at the woman’s supposed delusion. Sansa understood what he meant, but she didn’t see what he meant by them ‘appearing to have power.’ No one believed that the victors held any real power in the Capitol, well unless they were a part of the few who were able to move there and get jobs - even at that though they were no different from the few, who were able to move up without winning the games. It was rare for either of those things to happen. But, again, no one believed the victors in general had much more power than anyone else in the districts, they were just slightly richer than most. Hell, the mayors of each district barely had any power, they were just the sheepherders for the rest of their district - keeping things in order rather than falling into chaos - but they had no sway on the capitol or their officials. Or, at least that’s how it was in District 7, she couldn’t speak for the other eleven. 

“Indeed, the victors may appear to have power, well at least in your home district that is,” He nodded in Loras’ direction, “However, I was wondering if I could steal you away for a moment? I would like to have a drink with you, maybe trade a few words as well.” He looked over at her now. Unlike Cersei, he didn’t ask her companions for permission to speak to her first, he had asked her directly like she was her own person rather than an object from the get go. 

“Yes of course Mr. Lannister,” Sansa smiled curtly, “I hope you two don’t mind?” Loras just snorted at the formality and Renly smiled encouragingly. Tyrion waved his hand in the direction of what she supposed was in the direction of the bar. “I’ll catch up with you two later!” 

“If you can find us that is! It’s pretty packed in here!” Renly jested before waving her off. 

Sansa waved back and followed Tyrion as he began leading her farther into the party. He was a strange man, but he didn’t seem to have poor intentions either. At this point in her life, after her games, after last year’s gamemaker, she was usually able to know if someone had malicious intent. However, her old tendency to believe everyone to be pure and have good intent did sometimes rear its head. 

“Your games were quite the show! I must say I’ve never seen anything quite like them.” Tyrion turned back to look at her as they walked through the crowd.

“Oh really? I wasn’t sure if the gamemakers were happy with them or not, especially in regards to my win.” She looked at her feet, she didn’t have anything to prove to him but she still felt like she needed to be as modest as possible.

“It was divided, it really came down to what kind of show you prefer.” He made some wide gesture, she could now see the bar closing near at this point. “A show? I think it’s unfair to call them that, the only people who enjoy them are those born and bred in the Capitol. I like to view them as what they truly are: propoganda. They’re a method of keeping power, putting people in their place. Our king does love to rule with fear.”

Sansa was surprised at this conclusion, and apparently that showed on her face because the smaller man laughed at her as we climbed onto one of the bar’s stools. She knew he had been born in the districts, like Renly, but she wasn’t sure how old he had been when they had moved. Had he ever been forced to put his name into the bowl?

“I’m sure you have some questions for me,” he gestured for the bartender to come over to him, he ordered before going on. “I should let you ask before I start on my tangent.” 

“Uh, yes sir. I do.” Sansa said, taking a seat next to him at the bar.

“Please, call me Tyrion. There’s no need for formalities.” He smiled and took a sip of the wine he had ordered. He gestured to the bartender, “Is there anything you would like?” Sansa at this point had already abandoned her empty champagne glass, she had handed it over to a waiter. 

“Um. Just one glass of wine as well, please.” The bartender nodded and disappeared, only to reappear a moment later with her glass. “Thank you, sir,” she smiled. The man smiled back and disappeared for good now.

“Anyways, Mr. Lani- uh, Tyrion, I had been meaning to ask something actually. What happened to last year’s Head Gamemaker? No one seems to want to tell me.” Sansa mused and took a sip of her wine, it was sickeningly sweet, like the poisonous berries that one tribute accidentally fell victim to during her games. Last year’s gamemaker was Petyr Baelish, or Littlefinger as many referred to him as. He apparently had been mentored in commerce by her mother’s father as a boy, a rare thing for a district boy to apprentice under a District Mayor, however, Littlefinger wanted first hand experience in what he was dealing with. Apparently, Baelish became close to her mother, though she cannot recall her mother ever mentioning him in her childhood stories from District 6, but this made him favor Sansa for some reason from what she had heard. Her mother, like many, had her marriage arranged by the Mad King and was promptly moved into District 7 upon this announcement. The King believed that if he spread the prominent families out amongst the whole country, that they would never rebel. Her mother hasn’t had contact with her family from 6 in around twenty years. 

“Ah yes, Mr. Petyr Baelish. He, well, decided to take a swim in wildfire.” Wildfire, the King’s favorite execution method. He liked to make an example of people. “The King, well wasn’t discontented with your win, did believe that Littlefinger had a hand in it,” Tyrion took a long sip of wine, “This obviously wasn’t your fault, the King has enough wits left to know that.”

“So, you’re saying my win was rigged?” She wouldn’t be surprised if this was true. She didn’t even know how the tribute who had been hunting her up until the end had perished. No one would tell her - or could it be that they didn’t even know themselves?

“I’m not saying that, that would mean he outright made it so you would win from the start.” He looked her in the eyes, his green peering straight into her blue, “I am saying that he may have given you an advantage, but who's to say that? The arena was built before your reaping of course, but usually there are more _interferences_ from the gamemakers for pafisist, final tributes.”

“I think I understand what you mean,” He’s right, they had rarely targeted her with any traps or obstacles. “Anyways, that’s enough about me.” She smiled, wanting no more reminders of her games, or anything that could make her look guilty of a crime she had never committed, “What are your plans for this year’s Quarter Quell? It must be an honor to have your first games as the Head Gamemaker be the Quell.”

“More of a challenge than an honor,” He sighed, “I can’t say much - obviously there’s too many people here - and you’ll have to wait with everyone else for reaping day for that announcement. But, I will say it will be the most entertaining Quell to date, the Quell to end all Quells if you must say!” He laughed heartily at this, but the comment seemed strange to her. 

“Oh so it will be big this year? It’ll be hard to top the year the Blackfish won, I heard it was a spectacle.” There were twice as many tributes that year, making his odds twice as slim. She took another sip of her wine, but after being reminded of its taste she set aside for one of the bartenders to take away. 

“Oh, yes! But, it has been _very_ time consuming planning them,” he tapped the watch on his left wrist lightly, “However, I think this time, all of Westeros will enjoy them, unlike games past.” 

Before, Sansa could reply to the cryptic statement - it didn’t quite align with what Tyrion had been saying earlier about the games - a gruff voice came from behind her and responded in her stead. 

“You talk a big game, Lannister, but will you be able to deliver on it is the question?” She spun around to see her former mentor, Jorah, standing behind her as he clutched a glass of ale. 

“Jorah Mormont! It has been quite a while since I’ve had the pleasure!” Tyrion remarked overdramatically, raising his wine glass high in the air. “And, I hope I can meet your’s and the audience’s expectations.”

Jorah just grunted at this, “I’m sure you will,” He produced a strained smile, and then set his free hand on her shoulder. “My tribute here has some business to attend to, this is her party after all. I’m sure you won’t mind me taking her from you?”

“Of course, she is a busy girl - what with just winning _The_ Hunger Games after all,” Tyrion’s smile was just as strained as Jorah’s own, he extended a hand to her to help her off the bar stool she had been perched on.

“It was nice meeting your acquaintance, Tyrion.” She smiled politely at him before taking Jorah’s hand, who led her away from the bar and closer to steps of the palace. Sansa still wasn’t quite sure she knew what the man’s motivations had been, he had seemed like a complete contradiction at time. However, he was a well spoken contradiction, he had the tongue of a snake. 

Sansa turned to Jorah, who seemed to grimace once he realized that he had set down and forgotten his glass of ale, “What’s wrong? I wasn’t aware there was anything that I needed to attend to during this?”

He sighed, “You’ll have to at least meet the King, exchange a few words with him before being able to leave tonight. He’ll introduce you when announcing the celebrations, and that will most likely be the end of it. The King doesn’t like interacting with the victors much, doesn’t trust them.” 

This sent a shiver down her back, would he hurt her? Was the King angry with her? Jorah seemed to sense her distress though.

“He’s like that with everyone, I’m sure he’s not worried about you. And, if he is - well - he’s not gonna make a scene expressing that. This is the only time he ever leaves the walls of the palace after all.” 

They fell into silence after this and eventually reached the steps of the palace, which overlooked the gardens themself. The King and his family stood radiantly at the base of them, the King himself speaking with a technician off to the side. Daenerys quickly saw them approaching and waved them down. 

“It’s good to see you again! I didn’t mean to lose you back there!” She gave Sansa a small hug before turning to Jorah and the two men standing next to her, she assumed that they were her brothers - the two princes. “Oh! These are my brothers by the way! This is Rheagar,” she motioned to the elder man adorned in deep, bloody reds and black as dark as dragon’s glass. He looked about the same age as her father, maybe slightly older. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss.” He took her hand and planted a kiss to it. Sansa had heard a few things of Crown Prince Rheagar from her father, apparently her aunt had met him on a few occasions before her death. 

“And, this would be my other brother Viserys,” Daenerys motioned to the younger man, he had bored scowl on his face. Definitely not as friendly as his brother or his sister.

Viserys just nodded in Sansa’s direction, “It’s a pleasure.” His smile was strained, he obviously believed that activities like these were below him. The second prince must have had other priorities.

The announcement to the celebrations by the King himself went without any conflict. The only thing he had said to her outside of her formal introduction to the party was a curt, formal introduction. She didn’t see him for the rest of the night after that, he probably went back inside to the safety of the palace’s walls. The actual announcement led to a light and fire show over the ponds and fountains just north of the gardens. They were obnoxious, loud, and over extravagant, all bursting in colors of red, orange, black, and purple, the occasional gold sparkling overhead as well. It was typical for a man whose family adopted the motto “fire and blood.” 

The rest of the party passed in a daze of awkward conversations with random capitolites, while she stuck closely to Daenerys’ side. She never did run into Renly and Loras again, or any of the Lannisters or Baratheons for that matter. All the other Capitolites ever wanted to talk about were her games, wanting every bloody detail, asking if there was any kind of drama that they had missed during the training sessions. None cared about her feelings towards her games, or her performance in them, they were obviously more fascinated by the other more outspoken tributes. 

None of them took a second to think that maybe, just maybe, asking her these things were inappropriate as she probably would be suffering from some sort of trauma from the games. 

No. None of them thought to think this or take it into consideration.

Sansa decided that she hated the Capitol and its illustrious citizens, and that maybe her brother’s inclination to revolution wasn’t so radical after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kudos, Comments, and Bookmarks are appreciated!! Constructive Criticism is also appreciated! And again, sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you sm for reading! My tumblr is @Mirrorblunight if you would like to discuss anything on there with me! 
> 
> Wow! The New Hunger Games book released on the 19th!! I'm not far into it yet, but I'm already liking it! It also makes some of the events in this fic, like the few district citizens moving to the Capitol actually canonically being able to happen in THG lol
> 
> Next chapter: We finally see the Starks and get Robb's first POV chapter! The Quell's announcement will finally happen, and maybe also the reaping.
> 
> Anyways, how did y'all like the longer chapter over the shorter one? Idk if I'll be doing longer ones or shorter ones going forward, but we'll see. Anyways, have a nice day!!!!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK!! So, we finally have Robb's first chapter! And, I apologize again for this taking so long to come out!! I really meant for this to come out earlier, but starting to work again kept me busy and unmotivated lol. 
> 
> I'm sorry if this chapter seems kind of lazy in comparison to the other two, I just wasn't vibing with it as much. I can't wait to write the next one tho!!
> 
> This chapter is a lot less beefy and intense than the last, but the next one will be long and split POV probs.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!!

The Stark household had been unusually silent during the events of the last games. The Starks were a loud and loving family from District 7, the father being the current mayor of the district. Of course they were one of the great families of Westeros, a formality left from the times when they ruled the lands now divided into the districts, but were once individual kingdoms. They weren’t better off than most in their district, they lived and worked much like regular District 7 citizens. No one in the districts were ever very happy with their placement in life - much rather preferring if they had gotten the chance to be born a capitolite or perhaps a citizen of the rumored still standing Essosi societies - however the Starks made the best of their situation and took solace in one another as a family. The other families and citizens of District 7 loved and stood loyal to the Starks, just as they did hundreds of years prior when they were still the kings of winter. They were a humble bunch, ones who worked alongside them, lived like the rest of them, and they never acted above the other citizens like many other great families did - not that any District 7 citizens would know about the workings of other districts' great families, for they were isolated from interaction with outside districts. The Starks were the backbone of the district, whether anyone realized it or not. 

That’s why when all of the Starks went silent after the reaping of their eldest daughter, the whole district became unusually silent and solemn. Starks hadn’t fared very well in the arena in years past, what with the death of Brandon Stark, the Mayor’s elder brother, years prior. Lyanna Stark had won once upon a time, but the Capitol had broken her and she was dead within a year and a half of her games. 

The potential loss of one girl was the cause of the deafening silence that had ruled over the district during that time. Sansa Stark wasn’t any different than any of the girls that came before her or their male counterparts, the only difference was in her name. The Starks were a close knit family, more than most, and the potential breaking of that was felt throughout the district more so than any other time in the past. Sansa, however, proved the masses wrong when she was crowned the victor of the 74th annual Hunger Games without a single direct kill to her name. When her family was moved to the Victor’s Village in District 7 they still continued their work in the district’s lumber industry, their mother still creating simple garments to sell at the district’s market. 

Robb had hated to admit this, but as much as he loved his younger sister he hadn’t expected her win whatsoever. Sansa was gentle, preferred to use words over fists, and words got you nowhere in a game of survival. That, however, didn’t change the fact that their household had erupted into a relieved and excited frenzy the moment her winning was announced. Their family wouldn’t be torn apart, they wouldn’t be losing a piece of their puzzle. Tears of joy were shed and celebrations were started immediately. 

They were forced to move into the house set aside for them in the Victor's Village prior to Sansa’s arrival back in District 7. Luckily, they had received a house far from the one his father had spent part of his youth in once his sister had one the games, but was kicked out of following her death - his grandfather then moving himself, Robb’s father, and his uncle back into the old Mayor’s house that had been left empty for over year after his aunt Lyanna’s win. At least the Capitol spared their family some mercy in that. 

Once Sansa was home though, it was like living with a different person. Arya had wanted to question her immediately about the happenings of her games, and wanted to know what it was like behind the scenes. She had meant no harm really, but Robb could see the pain in his sister’s face the moment their younger sibling had voiced her questions. He hadn’t really expected anything different from her though, Robb was old enough to realize what the games truly were and how they affected people, there was no glory to them. The games left their “victors” traumatized and scarred for the rest of their lives. 

His family had done its best to try and uplift Sansa and help her through the trauma she was now facing, but the cut was still too fresh for her. Prior to her games, she had never really paid much attention to their cousin, Jon, but now she tended to drift closer to him, finding comfort in his natural broodiness and solemn air around him. Jon had been orphaned as an infant when his mother, Lyanna, had bled out on her birthing bed. No one knew of the identity of his father, and Jon’s traits didn’t indicate much seeing as he strongly favored the Stark genes. Not that they would be able to tell anyways, District 7 rarely ever saw capitolites visiting its borders, and the capitolites themselves favored body modification so much who knew what most of their natural traits were. But, they had never been close - not in the way that Robb and Jon had been close their entire lives, so the shift was unusual. However, Robb had to say Jon, despite his denseness and general distaste for social interaction, had a calming presence to him - something that was hard to find in their household. Jon had always felt like an outsider, despite the fact that he had grown up besides all of his cousins more as a brother than a cousin, Robb’s parents had treated him just the same as they had him and the rest of his siblings. His whole family was aware of this, and he supposes that this feeling was probably the source of his quiet and solemn nature. 

Robb had begun to look after his sister even more in those few months she had back home. He had always been protective of his siblings, but this was a new level. He knew that he was being a sort of helicopter sibling, but he was worried for her. Jon and him had spent many nights comforting Sansa and listening to her as she confided in him, too afraid to speak to their parents on such topics and not wanting to scare their younger siblings. The three of them became even more tight knit as the eldest than before. 

There were still times when Sansa laughed or scolded Arya for some prank or jest the younger girl had pulled on her, and in these times their family truly felt like they had before the games, before the Capitol had taken one of them and tried their best to break her. 

The Capitol never said anything about the reapings being rigged, and why would they, but he wouldn’t have been surprised if they had been. It seemed like once a generation, one member of each great family would have a family member’s name pulled for the games. In an attempt to, from what Robb figured, to keep them down and suppress any remaining influence they may have, despite the collective consciousness seemingly forgetting most of the history prior to their current society. There was a vague notion of former kings and queens and kingdoms, but not lasting impact or much cultural significance. They had been divided and isolated even further from just mere kingdoms to eradicate any larger notion of unity that the Capitol couldn’t control. That’s the reason they split up the great families with arranged marriages across the districts, to quell even family unity. 

Robb would be lying if he said he wasn’t subtly encouraging the early sparks of rebellion in his district. He heard the whispers amongst the men at the timber yard and in the main square of town, he actively joined in on the conversation. He’d spoken a little bit about it at home, but Robb was smart enough to know that the house was probably under some kind of surveillance and that speaking about it too broadly there is a bad idea.

The months that the family spent divided once more while Sansa was forcibly paraded around to each district on a “victory tour,” were quiet. It was like they all had something they wanted to say, but no one knew how to say it. Things had changed and now that she was gone again, they could see it even clearer. No one seemed to know how to approach the topic or confront the elephant in the room. 

As the focus on their district waned in these months, the fires of rebellion grew larger. 

As much as Robb loves his sister and is very much a supporter of the potential rebellion, he’s worried for her safety. The moment they take action, especially in his district, especially when _he_ does, the first thing they will do is punish her. The Capitol will no doubt view this as her fault, since her win was the spearhead of it all. That’s why he’s been doing as much as he can to make sure no one does anything before she comes home, right now she’s in the mouth of the beast and he can’t risk that. This may be bigger than Sansa and his family, but damn it if he won’t try and do his best to make sure they all make it out of this alive. 

When Sansa returned home after her tour, she seemed _better_. Robb was glad to see that his sister was finally able to be somewhat of herself again, she’d been so guarded and reserved, however she was still different and it was an adjustment they were all going to have to make. According to her, at the king’s celebration she had met some people and was able to talk out some of her qualms with them. Other victors apparently, and some strange anti-games capitolites. The prospect of people from the Capitol, the ones benefiting from the games, being against them was odd. It made him wonder if there’s been sparks of rebellions beginning even there, having people work from the inside. Capitolites tended to be self-serving and entitled, believing themselves to be above the citizens of the districts, but these few - apparently they were originally born in the districts themselves - had begun to start something from the inside. 

It was the night prior to the big announcement of the twist for the 3rd Quarter Quell, the 75th annual Hunger Games. Robb, Sansa, and Jon had been sitting outside on their back porch discussing their theories of what it might be. They were all unable to be picked, Jon and Robb being 19 and Sansa having already participated once, but this didn’t stop them from being concerned for their siblings who were of age to be reaped. Arya and Bran would have probably joined them, they were having these conversations by their age, but the two had been forced into helping their mother with preparing things for her booth at the market. Their mother was going to be selling more than she usually did at her booth in the market over the next week. Her clothes were always sought after more in the lead up to the reaping, what with all of the kids in the district needing new nice clothes after growing out of their one’s from last year.

“Well, it has to be connected to the failed Rebellion somehow, so what if it’s the adults being reaped this time? You know, to show it was really “the fault” of the adults not the children,” Jon suggested. Sansa, in response, stared at their cousin in horror.

“Can they really do that though?”

“I mean what’s saying they can’t? They’re the Capitol, they can do whatever they want.” Robb had to admit that the idea wasn’t _bad_ , it was definitely a possibility. He guessed it really didn’t matter what it ended up being, it was still going to be an unjust bloodbath of innocent lives like always. 

“Robb, what do you think it’ll be?” Sansa seemed to only be having this conversation with them to help prepare herself for the mentoring she would be forced to do this year.

“Well, I don’t know to be honest,” Jon gasped over dramatically in jest. “Well, does it really _matter_? It’s gonna have the same end as every year has, the content is the only thing that’s ever different.”

Sansa looked down at her shoes, staring into the glass of water in her hands. _Shit._ He was being insensitive, he didn’t need to be bitter in front of her, not after what she had witnessed only about a year prior. 

“Sans, I’m sorry I didn’t mean it-”

“Robb. It’s fine, you didn’t mean anything by it,” She smiled reassuringly, the same smile his mother had given them last year after the reaping. “You’re right though, it’ll end the same as always. Do the cosmetics or details of it really matter in the end?”

“You _really_ think it’s going to end like it has every year?” Jon had added, he was being unusually fiery for his usual quiet demeanor. “I mean not with everything that’s-”

“Jon, we don’t need to talk about that. Plus they’re all rumors.” His sister had sent their cousin a very pointed look as if to say _We can’t discuss this! Not here, not now!_

“Yea _Jon_! It’s not appropriate to be talking about that right now.” Robb jested, elbowing him in the side. “Sansa! You said you met the Head Gamemaker! Did he say anything, any hints?”

Sansa shook her head in response, “All he said was that they were sure to be interesting and that it was taking up much of his time.” Jon huffed at this, clearly feeling stuck. They hadn’t been able to come up with much, not that they were really trying all that hard. 

“Damn we really aren’t getting anywhere, we should probably go to sleep soon. It’s late, and we’ll figure out what it is soon enough.” Jon stretched, moving to get up out of his seat.

“Wait! That’s right! I remember!” Sansa perked up, “He did mention something, it’s not very substantial, but it’s something. He said that ‘the whole of Westeros would enjoy them.’ It’s strange because he made it very clear that he didn’t even like watching the games, he had a low opinion of them.” Well, Robb had to admit that is strange, “He also mentioned something about it being ‘the Quell to end all Quells.’ I’m not sure if that’s just him being grandiose or not, but it seemed to mean _something._ ”

Jon and Robb looked at each other in silence, maybe their theories of rebellion insiders in the Capitol were right after all. It did seem to slightly look like that, there was definitely something happening here.

“There’s definitely something sketchy about that, but I’m not quite sure what.” Robb admitted, there _had_ to be something up with that but the question is what exactly? It definitely meant _something_ though, and it was obvious that Tyrion had said that to tip his sister off on something. Maybe he was hinting at some type of insurgency that might happen during or because of the twist? 

“Kids, I know you’re probably discussing something important, but don’t you think you all should probably start getting ready for bed?” Their mother, Catelyn, had poked her head out the back door at them. Oh like that was going to happen, even if he wasn’t eligible to be picked for the games he still didn’t want his little siblings in there, especially not with some odd twist to it this year. 

They all instantly got up and headed inside, a damp solemn mood hanging over all of them. Something either very good or very bad was going to come as a result of tomorrow’s announcement. 

Robb’s whole family crowded around the television, awaiting for the King’s broadcast for the Quell to begin. The air was tense and the whole room was quiet as the capitol’s logo spinned on the screen. Robb had sat stiffly on the large lounge chair in their living room, he gave Jon a worried look from across the room. Jon, with all of his angst and melodrama, always seemed to insist on standing in the doorway, leaning against the wall, when the whole family met in the living room for things like these - even back in the old house before they were moved to the Victor’s Village. 

The spinning image of a crown and a dragon cut out and replaced an image of the King’s eldest son Rheagar on the steps of the main Capitol building in the forum, addressing a large crowd of Capitolites. The crown prince had taken up his father’s duties ever since the man became a recluse, Rhaegar was more of a king than his father Aerys ever was. Still didn’t mean that Robb necessarily liked either of them, the man was the better of two evils.

Rhaegar greeted the citizens of The Capitol and then began addressing the districts, his smile had melted into a saddened scowl throughout the greeting process. The man obviously wasn’t happy with whatever the twist was. Sansa looked over to Robb with concern from her place on the sofa next to their parents. There was something off with this broadcast already, something heavy was weighing on Rhaegar more so than any other games announcement the man had done in the past.

“As I’m sure you all are aware the 75th Hunger Games are to take place at the end of the month, meaning that we will be hosting the 3rd Quarter Quell as well.” The man on the screen seemed hesitant, this was weird. He kept fidgeting and wringing his hands, it’s like a man was standing behind the camera with a gun pointed to his head. “As every Quell before it, it will have a twist to remind citizens of the tragedy of the Rebellion that occurred 75 years ago.” His parents shared an odd expression, they were obviously picking up on the strange mannerisms of the Crown Prince during the broadcast. 

“What’s his problem?” Arya pointedly said, raising her hands behind her head and stretching out on the floor. “He needs to get on with it, this is _so_ boring. It’s not like it’ll change anything about the games, other than some stupid gimmick.” 

“Arya be quiet!” Their mother scolded, causing Bran to snicker from his place perched on the arm of the sofa.

“This year’s quell will have its contestants-” Robb leaned forward, closer to the screen, “-be drawn from the pool of the preexisting victors and their direct relatives. This will remind us that not everyone…” 

His words faded from their ears as soon as _those_ words left his mouth.

This couldn’t be real. They had to be dreaming.

Sansa’s eyes grew wide in shock. Arya threw her glass at the hologram television, promptly disrupting the image. Their mother broke down in tears as their father comforted her because she couldn’t go through what she went through last year. Bran seemed to go numb with shock, sharply contrasting with the playful smirk he wore just moments before the announcement. Rickon didn’t really know what to make of the news, just a year 

Jon glanced at Robb, nodding towards the backdoor. He wanted to speak to him obviously, but now wasn’t the time it could wait for later. Right now they needed to be with their family, and they needed to plan accordingly. 

* * *

Later eventually came, and here sat Robb, Jon, and Sansa like the night before discussing on the back porch. 

“We should talk to Jorah about this.” Sansa mentioned, “He might have an idea of what to do, plus he’s still in bowl right?”

“The man has no ‘direct’ family left, not after Jeor died a few months back.” Jon pointed out, “There’s no way he’s still in the drawing.”

“Is this even legal? Can they really do this?” Sansa said, nervously playing with the hem of her grey sweater. “Like isn’t part of winning that they’ll never bother again?”

“Does it really matter?” Robb butted in finally, “It’s the Capitol. They do what they like with no regards for any of the district citizens. What are we going to do, take them to court?”

“He has a point,” Arya walked out onto the porch with her arms crossed with Bran following in her step. “What we need to do right now is designate someone to go in with Sansa, no matter who is pulled from the bowl. We can’t leave it up to chance, not when one of us can still volunteer.” 

“You two took your time,” Jon jabbed as he mussed her hair. 

“Sorry,” Bran said, taking a seat next to Sansa.

“Arya’s right, we need a game plan. We can’t just hope for the best, and we don’t even know who will be eligible until the day of, which may I remind everyone is three days from now.” This was serious and horrible, but Robb had a feeling there was something more to this. He’s not the most perceptive, but from what Sansa had told them the night prior and the events of today, well he _could_ make the connections there. Anyone could really, it didn’t take a genius. Sansa made eye contact with him, suggesting that she thought the same. 

“So, what do you propose we do? I mean it’s already obvious that I’m going to have to go back in, so what next?” Sansa’s tone indicated that she may have caught on to what Robb had been planning in his head over the last few hours. Robb, if eligible - which he doesn’t see why not - was going to volunteer no matter what and go into the games with her. He couldn’t have one of his parents do it, they had too many children that depended on them, as much as his father loved honor he would be slaughtered in the arena for it. His younger siblings were too young, Arya was feisty but against trained killers she stood no chance. He couldn’t ask Jon to do this. Plus, if there was an uprising or something bad was to happen back home, Jon is the family’s best bet for survival with his knowledge of the forests and his connections. Robb knew that he would at least physically stand a chance and also had an idea that this year, maybe just maybe, more would come out alive than just one victor. Something was stirring, he was sure of it. But, Sansa was definitely onto him, especially after Arya’s initial comment about desiginating someone. 

“Well-” He started wringing his hands, “I was thinking about something of what Arya mentioned. I- um I was thinking maybe I should go in with Sansa.” Immediately after saying this, his siblings went to protest, however Sansa herself stayed quiet. “Wait! Before you say anything, I’m aware that this is crazy, but it’s my choice and I’d rather have a say than have two of my siblings carted away against their will.” Robb said, “And, Jon before you say anything, this includes you too.”

“I mean it makes sense,” Bran interjected, “Robb and Jon have the best chances just from a physical and experience standpoint. But, Jon has more uses here with his uh- stronger connections in the timber yards and even with the peacekeepers. Plus, no offense Jon, but he’s more of a stick in the mud, Robb’s charming which does well in the Capitol.” They all laughed at this, “I’m obviously too young and inexperienced to even think about winning, Arya’s too feisty and would put a target on herself,” this earned a sharp ‘hey!’ from Arya. “And, obviously mom, dad, and Rickon are out of the question.” 

You could have heard a pin drop if it wasn’t for the sounds of the forest in front of them. Bran was right, it was if he had read Robb’s mind. This was their best option, and the truth had just been laid out in front of them. No one said anything on the topic further, realizing that he would do it no matter what and that it also seemed to be the best option. This is also when the reality of the situation hit Robb in the face. 

“Well, if that’s what’s happening then we need to go talk to Jorah,” Sansa said, making direct eye contact with Robb. “He’ll know what to do. He can help with strategy.” 

“We can go talk to him in the morning, right now we should all rest. Today’s been hard enough.” Sansa said getting up and ushering Bran, who was seated next to her, to the back door. Arya followed suit, but Jon stayed behind with him.

Robb had not budged from his place on the steps, Jon leaned on the railing post before saying, “You know, it doesn’t have to be you. I’d do it if you asked. This type of thing changes a person, are you ready for that?” 

Robb looked up at his cousin solemnly, “There’s no preparing for it, I’m aware of that. And Jon, you’ve been through enough, I’ll be fine. _We’ll_ both be fine.”

“Whatever you say, just know you don’t have to be the one.” And, with that Jon left him alone with his thoughts, staring out into the night sky.

* * *

Turns out when Sansa said “We’ll go visit Jorah tomorrow,” it really meant that _she’d_ go visit Jorah, because she went without telling Robb and she came back all without him noticing. Apparently, she thought it’d be best for her to go alone, something about Jorah not being overly trustworthy of new people. 

However, she didn’t come back empty handed, she came back with a semblance of a plan. They’d go into the arena, hoping that someone else’s name would be pulled instead of Robb’s so he could volunteer (it apparently attracted many sponsors.) While in the Capitol they would play up the eldest siblings’ gig, trying to gain sympathy based on the “we have 100 little siblings, what will they do without us?” schtick and hope that gets them both out of the arena alive somehow. 

It wasn’t very detailed, but there wasn’t much else they could do.

Reaping day finally came around, and the Starks all stood on stage in the middle of the square along with Jorah Mormont and the District 7 escort, someone named Shae apparently. Two bowls sat in front of them on either side of Shae, one the victor bowl that held one name, and the family bowl that held 6 other names. Jon must have not been in the bowl for some reason, probably because the Capitol doesn’t care that he didn’t know anyone else besides his Aunt, Uncles, and Cousins as his family. They just saw him as a poor bastard with no family, in the care of the sympathetic mayor and his wife. Gods the Capitol made Robb sick.

“Welcome, Welcome as we celebrate the 75th Annual Hunger Games and the 3rd Quarter Quell,” The woman, Shea, who was wearing some obscene pink butterfly dress said to the crowd with a heavy accent. Robb’s ears were ringing, _this was it -_ he thought. He was sweating under his nice gray button up shirt, and not from the sun hitting his face but from his nerves. _Was this the right choice after all?_ He thought, but of course it was, there wasn’t any other choice to be made. He couldn’t send any of his little siblings in the arena, and he couldn’t leave them without one of their parents. 

“Now, time to choose our tribute from the Victor’s pool.” Shae announced to a crowd that looked like they wished they could be anywhere, but there. Robb looked over to Sansa who only offered him a sad smile trying to mask itself as reassuring.

“Our victor is-” _Deep breath, you know what’s coming_ , “Sansa Stark.” His sister walked to the center of the stage and took her place next to the obscenely dressed woman. She was crying. Gods what were they going to do? The games haven’t even started yet, and he was already feeling doomed. Any semblance of calm and confidence had left him.

“And for our next tribute,” The woman made her way to the other bowl and dipped her hand in it, “The family member to go in with Ms. Stark will be-” she pulled out a name, “Robb Stark.”

His breath hitched before he walked across the stage taking a place on the opposite side of Shae from Sansa. 

Shae took both of their hands and lifted them into the air, “Have a Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor.”

And at that they were both ushered off the stage and to the train. 

What did they get themselves into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!! Sorry for any grammar mistakes! Also, thanks for all of the amazing comments so far!! They're definitely appreciated! And so are all of the Kudos!! 
> 
> Next Chapter: The Capitol, Robb's reaction, and the victors and their families. We finally get acquainted to Theon and some others as well! 
> 
> I'm trying to distinguish my writing a little bit between POVs since Sansa is a bit more eloquent and perceptive, whereas Robb is more fiery and action oriented. So, I'm trying to cut back on some of the flowery-ness and descriptiveness of the Sansa chapters in this, IDK how well that worked or came across tho. It also helped that I didn't need as much exposition as the last two chapters, also not a lot of Capitolites either. So, how well did it work? 
> 
> Also, I realized my original plan for Joffery didn't make sense, so I had to scrap it. Any ideas on what I should do with him lol? I might just scrap using him altogether. 
> 
> My Tumblr: @Mirrorblunight

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!!! Next chapter will be out ASAP!!! Quarantine's giving me a lot of time to write lol
> 
> I'm seriously so excited for this fic!!! I hope you guys are enjoying it so far! If you wanna talk to me about it my tumblr is @mirrorblunight, so feel free to send in some asks to my inbox about it! I'd love to talk about it with you! Kudos and Comments are much apperciated! I'm always open to constructive criticism, but not hate.
> 
> Next chapter: The Party in the capitol, and possibly a little view into what's going on back home with the Starks in District 7. Next chapter is gonna be big, and a lot more is going to happen I promise.
> 
> Stay safe everyone! And, I hope you all have great days! :))


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